Strangers
by Justifiably
Summary: Soul and Maka meet at a small liberal arts college; romance, bickering, and hilarity ensues.
1. Guess What We'll Discover

**Author Notes: **This is my first time writing an AU, starting out in a college setting. It's really weird writing Soul/Maka as if they're just meeting instead of writing like they've been living together for several years. This chapter is really short, more like a prologue, for which I apologize; I refuse to switch narrators mid-chapter. The second, full length chapter will be up tomorrow morning.

Anyway, the story is going to a few years, so I'm starting in 2009 so that I won't have to predict anything about the future.

It is rated M for a reason, there will be a lot of mature themes later on, they are in college after all. I was only allowed to pick two genres but it really won't be all drama and no fun. Enjoy reading!

**August 26****th**** 2009**

She rushes down the hallway, bag smacking into her legs as she glanced over room numbers. She is altogether lost.

Here it is, 401 at last. She opens the door slowly, hoping to find one of the libraries, but she doesn't find what she was looking for. Instead of a quiet room filled with volumes of knowledge, she finds a single man, boy, scribbling notes at a piano while he fiddles around the keys, little melodies jumping out at his touch.

"Are you looking for something?" his eyes were scarlet.

"Sorry, I must have the wrong room," she stammers and backed out.

"You're probably looking for 401 in the lit building," he drawls lazily and returns to his work.

"Oh yeah, thanks," she vanishes from the door way and runs back down the hall.

She's never seen someone who looked like that before.

* * *

"Hi there, I'm Tsubaki," she is greeted at the door by her roommate for the year, a tall girl with long black hair. She feels incredibly short and incredibly flat.

"I'm Maka, it's nice to meet you," Tsubaki shakes her hand, she seems to be a very nice girl, and she seems to have taken the obviously less desirable half of the room out of charity.

She had left her bags in a corner to go exploring around the school, completely ditching the freshmen meeting. Finding books was a lot more important than finding people.

"I didn't see you at the freshmen meeting," Tsubaki says quietly, spreading out her bedding on the wall-side cot.

"Yeah, I skipped to go looking around, I saw a really odd boy when I was out." Maka starts unpacking her luggage and hanging things in her half of the closet. "He had white hair and red eyes, any idea who that is?"

"No, but I've seen him around today, he's kind of hard to miss anyway." Tsubaki replies. Maka notices that even her voice is nice. _Of course her roommate is beyond perfect. _"He is pretty hard to miss."

* * *

Her room set up, her roommate scoped out; she hurries down to the work-study center to find a job. The waiting room was devoid of other students, she guesses most freshmen aren't going to start working their first year and returning students won't get there until tomorrow. She approaches the desk with her hands twisting nervously behind her back.

"Excuse me, are you open today?" she asks when the man at the desk doesn't look up at her.

"Oh yes sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone today," he smiles placidly, "are you a freshman?"

"Yeah, I'm looking for a job, preferably related to a literature major, on campus."

"Just fill out these forms," he hands her a sheet of paper and looks back at his desk.

She glances at the paper, she has just answered most of the questions to the man in person, but she suffers through the bureaucracy and takes a pen with a fake flower on top. She pens in her name and preferred job area neatly, passing the form back. The man continued typing for a few minutes before looking at the form.

"There's a position at the book store, you can take this and head over there now," he hands her back a photocopy of the form she just filled out.

"Thank you for your time." She dips a little and shuffles out, boots conspicuously loud on the floor.


	2. Don't You Notice How Hopelessly I'm Lost

**Author Notes: **Chapter 2 is here, I'll probably have weekly updates from now on unless there are any short chapters which will be put in double uploads.

* * *

**September 9****th**

He stalks across the grounds, muttering to himself about book editions and money. Of course his courses change the edition of the textbook they use every year, just for the sake of making them spend more money. He's infuriated.

So here he is, stomping around looking around looking for the book store so he can hope to get back twenty dollars on his hundred dollar textbook. _Fucking school system._

He turns up the volume on his mp3 player.

He finds it stuck in a dismal corner of campus, rainwater dripping from the overhang. Time to go argue prices with some stuck up old lady.

"Hello, can I help you with something?"

He turns to the counter and is met by a pair of eyes that he can't place between green and hazel. Not the old lady he was expecting. It was a young girl, a student? With big clunky boots propped up on the counter and a sweater that swamps her whole body.

"Yeah, I need to sell this textbook back, I have the wrong edition." He grumbles, taking off his headphones.

"Oh if it's that I can set up a one for one exchange," she smacks her own textbook down on the counter and swings her legs to the floor. She can't be more than five foot three.

"Are you a student here?" he asks.

"Yeah, I just started."

_Dumb question, who else but a student would be working an on campus job, _he asks himself. He wasn't coming off as cool as he might have hoped.

"Uh yeah, me too." He smacks himself internally for the stupid response while following her through neat rows of books to the abysmally small music section. She stretches for the new copy and he reaches over the top to pull it down. She shoots him a glare.

"I can reach it myself," she says bitterly and takes the book from his hands. "I just need to fill out some paperwork and get you a receipt." She hurries back to the front desk, her hair sliding out of a messy bun as she walks. She seems to walk fucking everywhere like it's a competition. She clicks a few strokes on the keyboard and an ancient computer creaks to life.

"Name?" she asks briskly.

"Soul," he answers.

"Last name?"

"I'm surprised you don't have some weird reaction to his name," it's true, he is surprised, most people give him more of a gawk when he introduces himself.

"Well, my dad's name is Spirit so I can't really ask any questions."

"Did you get saddled with something awful too?" _smooth,_ he thinks, _very smooth._

"I'm Maka, Maka Albarn," she replies, fingers still poised at the keyboard.

"Wait, you're not related to professor Albarn are you?" he's incredulous.

"That would be my dear, dear father," she digs her nails into the wooden desk, he can hear her teeth rubbing together.

"Wow, so you're his daughter, he showed us your baby pictures on the first day of class," he snickers a little, "I figured you were still a little kid, he's pretty young after all."

"He did WHAT?" she jumps out of her chair, screaming "I will cut his throat."

"Chill out, they were pretty cute anyway," he pushes his hair out of his face.

"Cheating bastard," she mutters under her breath.

"What did you say?"

"What are you listening to?" she points to his headphones, which are still on and audible though they hang around his neck.

"Soul meets body," he expects her to recognize the song by the title but she shows no further interest.

"I still need your last name," she says.

"It's Evans, Soul Evans."

She makes a few more quick strokes on the keyboard and clicks. An equally ancient printer groans and wheezes, the hacking noises it makes sounds like an old man. She stamps the paper and passes it to him.

"It was nice meeting you, Maka Albarn," he grins at her from the door.

"We met once before you know."

He's confused for moment but then he remembers her face, wide eyed peeking into the practice room.

"I suppose we have."

* * *

**September 11****th **

He should have brought an umbrella to college with him. He curses himself for poor planning and ducks under the nearest over hang. His parents had told him that it rained a lot in western Oregon, but he wasn't expecting it to rain _all the time._

He looks up to see what building is gracing him with temporary shelter. It's the book store with the feisty girl in it. He takes his chances and enters, hoping to find something resembling anything waterproof.

"I wondered how long you were going to stand out there," Maka doesn't even glance up from her textbook as she hurriedly scribbles notes.

"Are you always in here?"

"Five days a week, do you need something?"

"I know this is a bookstore but, there aren't any umbrellas in here by any chance." He tests his luck and is rewarded.

"There are all kinds of non-book things upstairs."

He grins triumphantly.

"I just noticed your teeth are really sharp," she gives him a glance from the textbook.

"Well, I just noticed your tits are really small," he scowls and stamps upstairs, dripping water as he walks.

"You shouldn't say that kind of thing to a girl," she yells after him.

"You were the one who started out stating the obvious." He returns with a nondescript black umbrella and she rings it up, her face still red. He feels a little bad for her insulting her, though it was an eye for an eye mentioning his mildly demonic teeth. "You know, I have a gig at a club in town tonight, you should come."

She mumbles something but he has to ask her to repeat herself.

"I'm not old enough," she's still looking down at her textbook.

"You're eighteen aren't you? You don't need to be older than that unless you're going to the bar."

"I'm not going to be eighteen until the end of the month."

"You graduated early? Are you really smart or something?"

"I guess. Anyway, I can't go."

"You can go to the backstage door and I'll let you in, here's the address," he scribbles it down on the back of one of the bookstore business card and she takes it.

"Thanks," she mumbles and he takes his queue to leave, returning to the downpour outside.

* * *

**September 16****th**

He sees a familiar pair of boots on the walkway as he hunches his way to class. He brushes her shoulder as he walks past.

"I didn't see you on Friday." He whispers

She stops mid-step.

"I didn't think you actually expected me to show up," she seems genuinely surprised. It's weird; she seems like the kind of girl who has a lot of social engagements going on, certainly not the sorority type, but definitely the quietly confident and popular type.

"I'm playing again Friday night; you should actually show up this time."

"If you insist," she raises her eyebrows before continuing on her way.

He feels strangely drawn to her, though she isn't really conventionally hot; she works the brainiac girl with huge boots thing, and it helps that she isn't throwing herself at him like the girls at his high school. It paid off to not have everyone know his family here.

* * *

**September 18****th**

He stands backstage, his fingers twitching in the movements of scales and chords. He isn't expecting her to show up, though he still hopes she will. She comes off as being just a little more mysterious than him. He sees a pair of boots in the backstage door; he glances up to see long legs in black tights and a short black dress. She had this long black coat on with the hood pulled up, looking like a miniature grim-reaper.

"I showed up this time," she takes her coat off, shaking it off outside.

"I'm glad, I'm going on in a few minutes," he grins and takes her coat, hanging it over a chair. _Total cool guy move._

"What kind of club is this anyway? I thought it'd be louder than this," she cocks her head to the side as if listening for the pumping electronic music present in most clubs.

"You'll see," he tightens his tie, "you can listen from back here." He walks on stage to join the saxophone and the drummer. He smiles at her from the stage and dives into a jazzy blues riff. He can see her astonished face peeking from the curtain. He plays the set and returns backstage, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "So, what did you think?"

"I didn't understand it," she starts, "but I liked it a lot."

"They're bringing in some big shot singer for the next set, he pulls a sandwich out of his bag, "you might get it more with some lyrics." She eyes his sandwich like an eagle. "You want half?"

"Thanks," her eyes get exponentially larger and she eats it in about three bites. She might be built like a bird but she certainly doesn't eat like one. He's a little relieved to see her act like a normal person.

"So tell me, if your dad is a professor, why do you work so much?" he's genuinely curious, he plays for enjoyment and to get the professional experience, but his college is covered.

"I'm not taking any handouts from _that_ man," she scowls, taking one last enormous bite of sandwich.

"Well, I've got one more set and then I'll be done," he brushes the crumbs off his jacket and stands up.

"You don't know what the bus schedule is like at this time do you?" she asks, dusting off her own crumbs.

"Oh, I can give you a ride back," he pushes his hair back, _super cool._

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience."

"Assuming you live in a dorm, you can't live more than a few hundred feet away from me," he flashes his teeth and heads back to the stage.


	3. She's Reborn Like Sarah Vaughan

She watches him go back out on stage, slouching the whole way, and wonders how tall he is when he stands up straight. Soul is not what she had expected him to be when she first saw him. He's intriguing for sure, but not nearly as intimidating as she had first assumed.

A woman with a glittering dress cut deeply down the back steps on stage and a wash of music floods over her. She'd never listened to much music growing up, she has no idea about the intricacies of the theory or what was what genre. She likes it though, and the smooth lyrics undercut by the piano make her relaxed.

She's close to dozing off when the set ends and there's applause from the dark area in front of the stage. He returns, loosening his tie, good intentions hid behind a devilish smile. She's not sure how a person has teeth that sharp, but she quickly dismisses the idea that he's secretly a vampire, though he is a little ethereal with his white hair and red eyes.

"Ready to go?" he opens a locker, pulling out his bag and a helmet.

"What's the helmet for?" she asks, concern rising.

"Motorcycle."

Her heart climbs up in her throat and she can't speak for a second.

"Are you scared?" he smirks and passes her the helmet.

"Of course not," she mumbles indignantly and wedges the helmet between her knees while putting on her coat.

"Let's go then."

_He is seriously sly._

She follows behind him, helmet in hand, her boots scuffing on the wet pavement. He climbs onto a motorcycle and motions for her to do the same. She's really not sure what to do about the fact that she's wearing a dress but she gives up on modesty and straddles the seat anyways, reaching to make sure her ass is covered. She feels the engine roar beneath her and she immediately regrets not taking the bus.

"You don't have a helmet?" she yells above the engine.

"I have a hard head," he raps his knuckles against it, "hold on."

She flings her arms around his waist as he shifts out of neutral and takes off. She feels a lot safer once she realizes that Soul actually knows what he's doing, weaving through town streets and back to campus.

"Are we friends now or something?" she says, it's not the kind of thing that most people would say, but she isn't the most socially adept person out there.

"Can't hear you! Speak up!" He yells back without turning his head.

"I asked if we were friends now," she shouts, her voice still muffled by the helmet.

"We're certainly not strangers," he says, slowing the motorcycle and parking. "you want to come inside for pasta?"

Her mouth waters at the thought of food, though she was small, she could eat a lot more than people expected her to be able to.

"You're not trying to lure me in, are you?" she jokes, sliding clumsily off the motorcycle.

"Don't flatter yourself," he scoffs and takes her helmet. She could spend time be offended, but the thought of eating pasta overcomes that so she just gives him a whack over the head.

"Hey! What was that for?" he yowls. She laughs inwardly, _serves him right._

"Being rude, besides, you have a hard head right?" she snickers evilly and he gives her a look. "You're probably regretting spending time around me, aren't you?"

"No, I'm still intrigued." He says, turning the key for the dorm building.

"At some point you're going to realize that I'm not nearly as mysterious as you think I am," she mutters, mostly to herself.

"Home sweet home," he says sarcastically, kicking some shoes out of the way of the door.

"Where's your roommate?"

"Oh probably out picking a fight with someone," he says nonchalantly, kicking dirty clothes to his roommate's side to clear a path, "he's a nice enough guy but an absolute slob, and always yelling."

She looked up to see a wall filled with kung-fu posters with the words 'Black Star' painted over them in white paint.

"I look forward to meeting him," she chokes back a cackle, following him to another room, "you're really lucky to have a kitchen set up."

"We share a kitchen and bathroom with these two guys Ox and Harvar," he says, turning on a hot plate and filling a pot with water. "It's a good set up so we don't have to rely on dining hall food."

"If I didn't hate my dad so much I would have let him set me up in a suite, but as it is I'm stuck in a double room on a hall," she laughs ruefully, "at least my roommate is basically perfect." She slides down to sit on the floor while Soul steps around her to get a package of pasta out of the cupboard.

"Why do you hate your dad so much?" he asks, "I guess he's a little odd but he doesn't seem too bad to me."

"He's a cheating loser," she replied nonchalantly, it's the truth, her mother had left him because of it and she'd been stuck staying with him during school breaks while he went off with any number of women far too young for him.

He nods solemnly, sliding down to the floor across from her.

"So I have to ask: what was your favorite song from tonight?" she's glad that he can sense a need for a change in subject.

"Oh I don't know what it was called; I didn't recognize any of the songs."

"How did it go?"

"I really can't sing," she holds up her hands, no way is she embarrassing herself in front of this boy who is obviously an expert compared to her.

"Just hum it," he orders. She complies, tentatively humming what she can remember of the tune. He flashes his teeth in a smile again.

"I get misty, the moment you're near," he takes over the tune in a husky voice. "I loved that song as a child, I know people swear by Ella, but Sarah Vaughan really has that song in the bag," he says in a whisper, as if it's not okay to say that. She looks at him blankly, wishing she had spent some time studying music so she wouldn't be so lost. "Just a second, I'll play it for you, that singer tonight could not even compare." He leaves her in the kitchen to get his laptop, pulling up the song online. She listens, the sound quality cracks a little bit but the singer's voice holds true. She couldn't tell why, but it sounded incredibly rich and refined. "I've really got to work on your music education," Soul smirks and stands up to put the pasta in the boiling water.

He sets a timer and slides back to the floor, "I still have yet to figure out what you do in _your _free time."

"I told you, I'm not very interesting," she laughs, "I read and I study, that's about it."

"Well yeah, but on weekends."

"I have another job on weekends."

"Where, at the library or something? Bookworm," he says accusingly.

"I have to keep some element of mystery don't I?"

"Please tell me you don't work at a strip club or something."

"Like they would hire me," she gestures grandly to her small frame. To his credit, Soul only laughs for a couple of seconds, rather than the expected time. She'd learned to make jokes about her small bust when it hadn't gotten any bigger after seventh grade.

"Whatever," he serves her a bowl of pasta, "I'll figure it out some time."

"Black Star has returned!" She hears a voice scream from the other room and hears the loud slam of the door against the wall. A stocky boy with neon blue hair appears in the kitchen. "Pasta? Your god demands some," he snatched the pot and started wolfing down the rest of it. Maka thought she ate fast, but she was obviously not in the same league as this boy.

"I think I should probably go," she stands and sets her empty bowl in the sink.

"What, you don't want to get to know Black Star?" Soul's eyes twinkle a little, "see you later." She leaves him to deal with his drunken roommate, walking across the path to her own dorm building for some much-needed sleep.

**September 23****rd**

She sits in the dining hall, eating what she hopes are eggs. She's settled into an easy routine of class, work, study, and more work. She's glad that Tsubaki is about as studious as she is, and though she's pre-med, and they don't have any classes together, it's nice to have someone to just sit with while poring over textbooks. Soul has been the one irregularity in her life, and she's glad of it. She feels him slide into the booth next to her, though she doesn't look up from her eggs, she knows it's him.

"I thought you bought an umbrella," she admonishes as he shakes his head, spattering drops of water on her.

"Umbrellas aren't really cool, they're like a last resort," he slides a paper bag along the table, "happy birthday."

"My birthday isn't until the 29th," she mutters, unsure whether to trust a gift in a paper bag.

"Well, happy early birthday then," he says, "open it up." She slides her hand into the bag, half expecting to be bitten by some weird animal. She pulls out an odd object. There a dusty old portable CD player and a couple of CDs in paper slips with titles scribbled on the back.

"I'm almost surprised they still make these," she waves it in his face.

"I got that one second-hand, but it still works," he grins in obvious pride. "I told you I'd work on your music education."

"Thanks," she says, setting it back in the paper bag.

"You better tell me what you think of those CDs," he says, getting up from the table, still dripping on the floor. "See you around." He disappears as suddenly as he came, so she returns to her (hopefully) eggs.


	4. Black Coffee

**September 29****th**

He walks in to the on campus café and sees a familiar messy bun. He starts to walk over to her but pauses when he sees her sitting across from a very well dressed boy who looked about their age. He's about to walk back out when she calls him over.

"Hey Soul!" she waves, no more ignoring now, "Soul, this is Kid; we went to high school together," the stranger-boy gave a wave.

"Nice dye job," he motions to the three white lines in the boy's hair.

"They were there when I was born, it's awful," the boy yanks a hat over his head. _What a weirdo._

"Come sit with us," Maka motioned to an empty chair, "Kid doesn't know anyone here yet."

"I actually gotta go to class, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday," he mumbles awkwardly.

"Okay, well you should come over later, Tsubaki wants to order some take out and have people hang out and stuff." He's not sure if he's ever seen her smile this much in one day. "Text me," she scribbles down a phone number on a napkin and hands it to him. He has flash-backs of throwing away girl's numbers but he puts down those memories to tuck it away in his pocket.

"Uh sure, sounds fun," he puts his headphones back in before he can get third-wheeled on her date.

He knocks on the 312 door and Maka opens the door immediately. She's decked out in flannel pajamas with her hair in twin braids.

"We have pad thai!" she announces gleefully, "and zombie movies." He pushes the door open to see a tall girl with long hair in a high pony tail and stripe-hair boy. "You've already met Kid, this is Tsubaki," she gestures to her roommate, "Tsubaki, this is Soul." _Ohh boy._ He fills up a plate with delicious noodles and sits on the floor. _At least there will be zombies._

He looks over at her scarfing noodles and laughs inwardly.

"You eat almost as fast as me," he jokes, pointing his plastic fork at her nearly empty plate.

"Only almost?" she doesn't take her eyes off the laptop that's propped up on a desk, "I'm offended."

He glances over at OCD, who is arranging pieces of chicken and egg on his plate.

"It has to be symmetrical before I can eat it," he mutters defensively. He takes another huge bite of Pad Thai and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Seeing Kid arrange his noodles just makes him want to eat more like an animal than usual, no wonder that boy is so skinny.

The movie ends and Maka leaps up to turn the lights back on. "Okay well, I have 8am class tomorrow."

"Sometimes I forget how much of a dork you are," Soul jokes, standing up.

"Wait!" Tsubaki jumps up, "I totally got cupcakes for your birthday." She opens up a closet door and pulls out a plate of cupcakes. "Happy Birthday Maka!"

"You can go to that strip club now," he winks and she whacks him over the head and glowers.

"You can leave now," she mutters through a cupcake before shoving one in his face.

"I will," he stuffs the cupcake in his mouth in a single bite and heads for the door, "see you around, tiny tits." She throws a book at him but he closes the door before it can hit its intended target. He notices how cute she is when she's mad.

**October 1****st**

"Hey there," he walks into the bookstore and sees Maka in her usual spot: boots on the desk, textbook in lap. She doesn't acknowledge his presence at all; he could almost see the steam coming out her ears. "Still mad huh? I brought you more music," he tosses some CDs on the desk.

"I sincerely hope these aren't expensive," she mutters, still engrossed in her textbook.

"I can get blank ones five for a dollar," he replies sheepishly.

"Then I won't feel so bad about my urge to break one on your face."

"Geez, I didn't know you were still that mad," it really was a joke, she might be small but she still _had _boobs, even if they were hidden somewhere in her oversized clothes. She doesn't respond, simply turning another page of her text book and scribbling impeccably neat notes at record speed. "I can't believe how much you study; you're going to get a hernia or something." Still no response. "Come on, I'm sorry for insulting you, I'll buy you coffee or something."

"Lots of cream, no sugar."

He heads out to get coffee and returns to the bookstore where Maka hasn't budged an inch.

"Peace offering," he passes her a cup. She opens the top and peers in suspiciously.

"This must be yours; it's black like your soul." _What a little dramatic._

"Cool guys drink black coffee," he reaches for his cup but she takes a sip anyways.

"Jesus, how much sugar did you put in this?" she gasps and then starts laughing hysterically, "you try so hard to look cool, but secretly you're just disgustingly sweet."

"I guess your coffee matches you too," he can feel his face heat up a little, "it looks all innocent but then it's secretly bitter."

"Guess we don't have any more misconceptions anymore," she hands him his cup in exchange for her own, "I listened to one of those CDs you know."

"Yeah? Which one?"

"The one with all the Amy Winehouse on it," she sips her nasty, creamy coffee.

"What'd you think?"

"At first I thought her voice was a little harsh, but it really grew on me, she mentioned that singer you were talking about, Sarah Vaughan."

"October Song, that's a good one."

"Yeah it might be my favorite from that CD."

"You know one of those CDs is half Sarah Vaughan and then all the same songs by Ella Fitzgerald, gotta catch you up on your jazz legends."

"Nice change of subject, sap," she slides the CDs into her bag with a smirk and returns to her textbook.

"You know, Black Star won't stop referring to you as 'ghost lady' until he sees you while in his right mind."

"I think I'm prepared to meet the infamous 'Black Star,' is that even his real name."

All he can do is shrug.

**October 6****th**

He catches a glimpse of Maka across a grassy patch, waving goodbye to triple-stripe kid with a smile.

"Hey Maka, on a date with OCD?" he drapes an arm casually over her shoulder.

"We're not dating," she says seriously and pushes his arm off.

"Why not, it's obvious he likes you."

"Yeah right," she snorts, sincerely incredulous.

"I'm serious; he so wants to get with you."

"You're ridiculous, I'm going to class." She walks away quickly; he's a little surprised to see how fast she can walk with those enormous boots. He sighs and heads for the music building; as much as he likes teasing her, he's secretly relieved that she isn't shacking up with OCD, _she could do way better than that._


	5. I'm a Lazy Dancer

**Author Notes: **Here's Chapter 5, sorry this is also short, the next, much longer chapter, will be up on Monday or Tuesday so please don't hate me. Holidays are running rampant and I have lots of family around, shows that I'm in, and college apps (aka the devil). Personal rant over, enjoy the chapter and look forward to the full length chapter on Monday.

* * *

**October 14****th**

"Black Cofee," Maka sing songs and sashays into the coffee shop. "I see you faking." She points to Soul's coffee as he pours a third packet of sugar into his cup.

"We've gone over this already," he sighs and takes a sip. "What's up with you anyway? You're acting stranger than usual."

"I had to pull an all-nighter, so I had to supplement my coffee with red-bull." She grabs Soul's cup and takes a gulp, grimacing at the sickening taste. Her course load combined with her work schedule was finally getting around to kicking her butt. No matter, there was no fatigue that caffeine couldn't overcome.

"So I trust you listened to that Ella vs. Sarah CD?" Soul pours a fourth and final packet of sugar into his coffee. _Disgusting._ "Who do you prefer?"

"They are _incomparable _goddesses of song," she deadpans, she doesn't really know how to compare singers, though she had liked both of them.

"That's a cop out, I'll accept your answer though," he drinks his coffee, apparently satisfied with his concoction. "Anyway, how do you feel about hanging out with Black Star on Saturday?"

"I'm hoping you don't mean alone," she mutters, the neon-blue haired boy scares her just a little.

"Of course not, we can all go get pizza."

"I have work until five," she sways a little, her stomach grumbling. Soul pulls a donut out of his pocket and hands it to her; she eats it in about three bites before she considers that he had probably bought it for himself.

"Oh your secret work place, a.k.a the strip-club," he jokes, "I can pick you up."

"Ha, not finding out that easily, I can find my way back," she brushes the crumbs off her hands, "I'm bringing Tsubaki, I'm not sure I feel safe with Black Star without her."

"I'll warn him to not make an ass out of himself."

She traipses out, fueled on caffeine and sugar, texting Tsubaki as she went.

Her phone buzzes and she pulls it out.

"I'm excited, I need to meet more boys," the phone screen reads, Maka almost chokes laughing; she doesn't think Black Star is exactly the kind of boy that the calm, quiet, and kind Tsubaki is looking for.

* * *

**October 17****th**

She pushes open the door for the pizza joint that Soul had told her to meet them at. Tsubaki waves at her, looking only slightly terrified, Black Star stuffs his face with pizza, and Soul looks like he has a head-ache. _Typical._

"Ghost lady is here!" Black Star says through a mouthful of Pizza. A little put off, Maka takes a slice of pizza and starts wolfing it down, she hadn't realized that she was absolutely starving until now. He gives her one look and bursts out laughing. "You eat pizza like a real man," he claps her on the shoulder, "well done."

She isn't sure whether or not she's supposed to be offended, but she takes it as a compliment and gives him a thump on the back.

"Maka, you smell like chemicals, do you work in a nail salon or something," Soul sniffs her and she jumps back.

"You're so weird," she laughs and waggles her chewed nubs of fingernails in his face, "guess again."

She zones out while her friends talk and laugh, she's happy that they all seem to get along but she doesn't have the energy to focus on the conversation at hand. She's about ready to go to bed.

"Maka!" Soul waves his hand in front of her face and he comes into focus. "I said I could give you a ride cuz Black Star has his bike here."

"Gotta keep building these monster calves," Black Star grins and lifts his leg in the air.

Maka looks over at Tsubaki, "Tsubaki's here so we can take the bus together." Tsubaki smiles, obviously relieved; though she's has a mature personality, she's still a little naïve. "We should head out soon though, I have work tomorrow."

"Your God will leave now too," Black Star yells and stands up, shoving the table forward and pinning Maka and Tsubaki against the booth.

Maka still thinks he needs to tone it down a little. She pushes the table back and slides out of the booth, followed by Tsubaki.

"I'll see you guys later," she waves and hurries to the bus stop, her skirt swishing around her legs. They stand at the bus stop, shivering a little in the cool night air, Maka plans out how she'll pay for a thicker coat.

"So what's the deal with Soul?" Tsubaki says.

"What do you mean?" Maka's teeth clatter a little and she's thankful to see the bus at the end of the block.

"You guys are dating aren't you; I thought this was like a double date."

"Oh no, we're not like that at all," Maka waves her hands and climbs on the bus. "Wait, do you like Black Star? He's kind of ridiculous, don't you think?"

"I think he seemed cool," Tsubaki whips out her phone.

"Sorry, I just didn't think of it, you two are so different." Maka says apologetically, "are you texting him now?"

"Yeah I am," Tsubaki answers, "sorry I snapped, I just think it's good that we're so different you know? Besides, even though he sort of makes an ass out of himself, I can tell he means well. More importantly though, I really don't get it with you and Soul, you seem to get along so well."

"Yeah, we do," Maka answers, "and I like things how they are. Besides, it's not like he likes me like that, he's always making jokes about my… physique."

"Whatever, I can't make you see what is so obvious to everyone else," Tsubaki says, tapping away at her phone.

The bus wheezes to a halt and they climb off, speeding walking to the dorm because it's starting to rain again and neither one of them has an umbrella. Maka changes out of her damp clothes into dry pajamas and settles in to study her literature textbook. As much as she wants to sleep, she can't just quite yet. The warmth of flannel gets to her though and she uses her book as a pillow.


	6. When Autumn Leaves Start to Fall

**Author Notes: **As promised, longer chapter today! Chapter 7 will go back to Saturday updates. Warning for underage college kids drinking, huge shocker. Enjoy.

* * *

**October 26****th**

He walks into the bookstore with a cup of coffee with cream as a peace offering.

"I know you're about to ask a favor of me," she says. He's no longer surprised that she doesn't glance up from her textbook when he comes in. How she knows it's him, he does not know.

"You know Halloween is on Saturday," he starts, unsure of how to pitch his plan to her. He knows she won't like it no matter what; he might as well get it out there.

"Did you poison this or something?" she sniffs the coffee suspiciously.

"Of course not, I was just gonna say, all the guys are making me be designated driver for this party-"

Maka cuts him off, "how can you be a designated driver with a _motorcycle?"_

"Harvar has a van that I'm driving," he explains.

"So what does this have to do with me?" he can tell she's gotten hostile just hearing the word party.

"Just let me finish," he growls, "I was just gonna say you should come."

"I have work on Sunday," she returns to her textbook, obviously done with him.

"Please Maka? Just go and don't drink that much, I don't want to be just stuck with a bunch of trashed douche bags, bring OCD if you want." Her ears perk up at the word please.

"Are you, _begging?" _she smirks evilly. _She is certifiably insane. _"Ok, I'll go."

He can't believe he's gotten off so easily; he had fully prepared himself for a sharp strike of the textbook to the head. Still, he counts his blessings and leaves while his luck is with him.

"You owe me," she yells as he closes the door behind him. _Shit._

* * *

**October 28****th**

Maka appears next to him, her mouth is moving but he has no clue what she's saying. He slides his headphones down to his neck, "what did you say?"

"I was asking if I have to wear a costume on Saturday."

"Of course, its Halloween dummy, just don't dress as a school girl or something because people will literally think you are twelve."

"That's not funny," she pouts, "my middle school uniform still fits me."

"What are you talking about?" he laughs, "that's hilarious."

"All the girls were jealous is sixth grade because I was an early bloomer, and then I just stopped growing." He spits out a mouthful of coffee laughing, he can't handle this totally straight forward girl who somehow never stops surprising him. "I'll find something that doesn't make me look twelve."

"Good luck with that," he chortles and she whacks him with her bag. _Mental note: never attack when she's armed._

* * *

**October 31****st**

He hears a knock at the door and opens it to find Tsubaki is a skimpy French maid costume, he praises god for creating women, and Maka. He wasn't sure what he was expecting her to dress up as, but he's impressed with her ingenuity. She's dressed up as an angel but not in a slutty way, for which he is infinitely thankful. She's forgone a fluffy white bikini for a simple white dress and shimmery gold tights. She wears tiny wings for practicality and glitter on just about every inch of her. For once her hair isn't tied up but is loosely curled and, he notes, also covered in glitter. He winces inwardly, _glitter is impossible to get off of everything._

"You're going to get glitter on everything," he scowls.

"It's revenge," she says simply and walks in, still wearing her same boots; he's pretty sure at this point that she really doesn't own any other shoes. Tsubaki follows her in and walks past her nervously, and of course the rest of the boys are close to drooling.

"No skanky cat suit?" he jokes, punching Maka lightly on the shoulder, getting glitter on his fist.

"I tried one on," she admits, "but then I just look like a twelve year old trying to pass as twenty, and that's really just sad."

"It's good, this looks cute," he says, she looks pretty taken aback at the compliment but takes it in stride.

"You're not in costume," she says accusingly.

"I will be," he says, pulling on a suit jacket of his red shirt. "I was born to be the devil," he grins and slides a pair of devil horns over his hair.

"I can't believe how little effort you put into your costume," she gives him a deathly look, "and it still manages to work."

"I tell people that I'm wearing a wig and contacts," he yawns, straightening his horns, "unless I can convince them that I'm actually a demon," he smirks and shows his wolfish canines.

"Let's get out of here!" Black Star yells and punches the air, whirling around a plastic ninja sword, "I call shot gun!"

Soul sighs and climbs into the driver's seat as the group piles into the van.

"Ready to laugh at trashy drunk people?" Maka whispers in his ear.

"Absolutely."

* * *

They park a few blocks away and walk towards the address Black Star has supplied. Maka walks close behind him, floundering in such an unfamiliar setting.

"Oy Kirikou," Black Star greets a friendly boy with cornrows at the door.

"Hey Black Star, good to see you," the boy slurs and grins, looking at the rest of the group, "these your friends?"

"Yeah, these are my roommates and this is Maka and Tsubaki."

"Well come on in, drinks are in the back," the boy winks and opens the door wider. Soul walks in, immediately enveloped with generic house music and the smell of sweat and beer. Maka is still behind him, clinging to his arm.

"You dragged me into this," she yells above the music. He nods silently in response and leads her back to the kitchen.

He reaches to open a cooler but a hand stopped him.

"Dudes pay for drinks."

"It's for her," he pointed his thumb over his shoulder to Maka. The boy who'd stopped him gives Maka a sickening look before handing over a bottle.

"Here," he hands her a bottle of hard lemonade, "you won't be so bored but it won't mess you up."

She takes the bottle and sips it tentatively. "It's pretty good."

"Have you never drunk before?"

"Nope," she takes another sip.

"Well, it's generally a lot grosser than that."

"I'm gonna go find Tsubaki," she says and looks over her shoulder as she disappears back into the main room. She's swallowed up by the crowd and Soul sighs, readying himself for a long night.

* * *

He wades through throngs of half-naked girls and drunken boys; he's kept tabs on everyone else but he hasn't seen Maka for a couple of hours and his anxiety is rising. He sees the host, Kirikou, and pulls him to a slightly quiet corner, "have you seen the girl I came in with?"

"Tsubaki? She's over there," he points to Tsubaki who is dancing freely with Black Star.

"No, the other one, in the angel costume," he's getting restless.

"Not for a while, you could check upstairs," Kirikou pointed to a narrow stair case.

"Thanks, I'll check." Soul went about as quickly as he could with so many people around. He's relieved to see her sitting on the floor; her make-up is a little smeared and her hair is a little crazy, but she appears wholly in one piece. She looks at him blankly for a moment and then grins.

"Soul, I'm so happy to see you," she smiles and reaches her hands toward him like a baby.

"Geez, what have you been drinking?" she smells like vodka, though she's still holding the same bottle as before.

"I was bored, so Tsubaki put some more stuff in my bottle," she sloshes her half empty bottle at him and he takes it and sniffs it.

"I don't know how much lemonade is left in this," he grimaces. "You doing okay up here?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to sit down somewhere," she blinks lazily, "come sit with me," she grabs his hands and pulls him down to the floor.

"Okay, I'm sitting," he concedes and sits against the wall with her, "so you didn't bring Kid with you, why not?"

"You're just trying to make me talk cuz I'm drunk," she mumbles, leaning against his arm, and getting glitter on his suit.

"You caught me," he laughs, "seriously though, I still want to know. You know he likes you right?"

"Yeah, I know," she says nonchalantly, her eyes drifting shut, "he asks me to go on a real date with him and I kind of freaked out."

"What? Why would you freak out? Just say no if you really don't want to."

"I don't know, I have issues trusting boys," she mumbles, he feels a couple tears on his shirt sleeve and resists the instinct to run away.

"You don't have issues with me," he points out, "besides the physical abuse thing."

"Yeah well you're not trying to get in my pants," she points out bluntly.

"Fair enough, I have issues with girls so I guess we're even." He wrapped his arm around her protectively.

"Hey Soul," she mumbles drowsily, "you should know I do trust you."

"Mhm."

"More than anyone, I think. I don't know why that is."

"Probably cuz I'm the coolest person you know," Soul chuckles, and catches a glimpse of her raised arm out of the corner of his eye. He catches it in the middle of a slow motion swing towards his head and grips it tightly. "Maka, don't fall asleep, we have to leave here tonight."

"I'm not sleeping, I'm just resting," she mumbles. He can hear her breathing in his ear, and humming under her breath. It takes a moment for him to place the tune but he realizes she's half humming, half singing along to the remix that's playing downstairs.

"Keep me closer, I'm a lazy dancer," she mumbles quietly, "Soul, who is this?"

"It's Metric, but it's a weird remix, I'll show you the original later."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I have to go get everyone together to leave though, it's almost one," he detaches himself from her and stands up.

"Help me up," she reaches up for him and he takes her offered hands, lifting her to her feet.

"Stay close," he says, gripping her hand; she winds her fingers with his and nods as he leads her downstairs in search of their friends. Black Star and Tsubaki are easy to find, still dancing and making out in the corner of the main room. Confident that they'll still be there when he returns, he makes his way to the basement in search of Ox and Harvar. They find the pair of them sitting in a smoky room playing video games, _so typical._ He taps them on the shoulder and motions that it's time to leave. They follow compliantly and he leads the whole lot of them back upstairs in a chain. He retrieves Black Star and Tsubaki and heads back to the car, caravan in tow.

The boys pile into the back and Tsubaki seems to follow Black Star indefinitely. Maka's still clutching his sleeve so he leads her to the passenger side and lightly pushes her into the seat. He returns to the driver's side and double checks the presence of his passengers before driving back to campus. Maka resumes her hold on his shirt sleeve and slides onto the floor between the two seats.

"You okay down there?" he asks, trying to keep his eyes on the road. She nods vigorously and that's enough for him.

He parks the van and they all pile out, his duties completed, Soul tiredly turns the key for his building and stumbles up the stairs to his room. It's not until he's in his room that he realizes that Maka, rather than Black Star is with him.

"Maka, you have to go back to your own room," he says but she's already stripped down to her underwear and burrowed her way into his bed. "You can't sleep here."

"I don't want to go back there, Tsubaki probably brought Black Star back there." She mumbles from her blanket nest. It all clicks.

"Is she gonna regret that tomorrow?" he asks, considering the viability of retrieving his roommate.

She shakes her head, "probably not, she really likes him."

He sighs and digs through his drawers. "I guess you can stay here then, but at least dress yourself," he tosses her a T-shirt. She grabs and pulls it over her head but seems to get lost inside it. He trudges over to his bed and pulls her to a sitting position before yanking her head and arms through their proper holes. "I'm going to get you some water," he announces and heads for the kitchen but she's passed out cold by the time he returns with a glass of water.

There's nothing he can do at this point to wake her so he shrugs, hangs up most of his clothes in the closet, pulls on a T-shirt, and shoves the large pile of dirty laundry off of Black Star's bed. Apparently his roommate lives in a pile of clothing rather than any actual bedding so he makes do with sweatshirt.

He falls asleep listening to Metric.


	7. Sullen Girl

**November 1****st**

She wakes up with her tongue feeling like dirt and tasting like socks. _Ugh._

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," a glass of water and some pills appear in front of her, she looks up to see Soul sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I have to go to work," she grumbles and sits up, _bad idea, _she feels sick.

"I called in for you already," Soul says and stands up to refill the water glass.

"What? How did you get my phone?" she's confused and groggy and feels all together disgusting.

"It was in your purse for last night, I just called the weekend work number."

It finally sinks into her head, "What?! What did my boss say?"

"I just told him you were sick and he said something like 'thank god someone finally got that girl to a party,' and that he's expecting you to be there tomorrow." Soul pulls his shirt off and digs around his drawers for a clean one; she can't help but be surprised at how muscular he is and then hit herself mentally for noticing.

"I need coffee," she grumbles and curls back into a ball. She feels terrible for inviting herself in and usurping his bed, but the thought of listening to Tsubaki and Black Star doing who-knows-what eased her guilt.

He hands her another glass of water, "water first, coffee later."

She ignores it to wander to the bathroom instead. It comes to her attention that she's not wearing pants, but she can't really be bothered at the moment. It doesn't really matter anyway; Soul's T-shirt that she doesn't remember putting on is long on her anyways. She knows she should go back to her own dorm, but the thought of walking in on Black Star and Tsubaki, mixed with the fact that her two options for clothing are her costume and Soul's shirt, makes her stomach feel even worse. She emerges from the bathroom, still feeling trapped.

"I trust you don't want anything to eat," Soul is slurping cereal from a bowl.

"Don't even mention food to me," she dives back into his bed.

"You can sleep in your own dorm you know, not that I'm trying to get rid of you."

"Walk of shame," she mumbles under her breath.

"Our buildings are right next to he each other, it's just not a big deal," he sighs exasperatedly and shoves his hair out of his face. "I guess I can go get you some clothes," he concedes, "but I don't owe you anymore, where are your keys?"

"Wherever the rest of my stuff is?" She's honestly really not sure where anything is, except for her costume which is in a pile on the floor. He digs through her purse and pulls her keys out, twirling them on a finger.

"I'll be back in a few," he leaves. She wraps as many blankets as possible around her and mourns her hangover and thinks of all the possible time she has today, it's been a couple months since she's had a whole day to herself.

Soul opens the door and tosses her a shirt, sweater, and skirt, "Tsubaki left you a note, she and Black Star went out for breakfast."

"That happened quickly," Maka comments, sorting out her clothes. "I'm gonna go change." She's getting increasingly self-conscious about the fact that she's wearing his shirt; she pulls her the hem down as she makes her way to the bathroom. She emerges, dressed but still with a birds nest for hair. "I'm going to go hide in my room and watch TV on the internet," she yawns and heads for the door.

"Wait just a second," Soul says, "I made a copy of this yeah yeah yeahs CD for you, I realized I've been neglecting indie rock."

"I swear there's something illegal about this," Maka grins and takes the CD, "I'll listen to it when my head stops feeling like it's going to fall off. Anyway, sorry for stealing you bed."

"Sorry for not watching out for you."

* * *

**November 11****th**

She realizes that it's been almost two weeks since she last talked with Soul, an oddly long amount of time, since she had crashed in his dorm-room after getting too drunk at the Halloween party. She's anxious and starting to worry about whether he's avoiding her. She's caught glimpses of his white hair as she's been walking to class, but he's always had his headphones on and his eyes to the ground.

He's at the door now though.

She looks up from her homework and he waves through the glass door to the book store.

"Long time, no see," she says as he opens the door and walks in.

"Believe it or not, I've been studying for mid-terms," he says sheepishly.

"You? Studying?"

"Well, it's for music theory and I actually care about that class. Anyway, are you free tonight?"

"I'm always free Friday nights," she says, only slightly sarcastically.

"I finally got a solo spot at that club I've been playing at."

She nearly falls over her chair, "really? That's so exciting, congratulations!" She doesn't really understand how it may be for him to have a solo slot, but she can tell that he's secretly proud and excited.

"Yeah," he rubs his hair and she thinks she can see a faint blush creeping up his neck, "so I thought you might want to go."

"Of course, it's been a while since I've heard you play, and now I can go in legally," she beams excitedly.

"Cool, you want a ride?"

"I feel like I should get my own helmet."

"I have an extra one in my room; I just didn't have it with me that one time." He replies.

"Okay, I'll see you then I guess."

* * *

**November 13****th**

"Are you going on a date or something?" Tsubaki calls from her bed where she's sprawled out surrounded by papers. Maka brushes on a little mascara and fixes her hair up.

"Soul has a show at some nice club, I don't want to look awful," she says, pulling on shorts under her dress, preparing for the motorcycle ride.

"Sounds like a date to me," Tsubaki scoffs. Maka ignores her, yanking on her boots over her tights as she hears a knock at the door.

"Hey, you ready?" Soul is at the door in his signature suit, hair a little tamer than usual.

"Yeah, let's go," she says, he hands her an extra helmet for the ride. She follows him down to the motorcycle as he adjusts his own helmet. "I even wore shorts this time."

He holds in a laugh, "you're too much sometimes." It's a quick ride into town; Soul parks the motorcycle in the lot behind and takes her helmet. "I gave them your name at will-call, so you should get in fine, unless you _want_ to sneak backstage."

"I'll go in like a respectable adult," she smirked and walked around to the front to get her ticket.

She found a seat at an empty booth where she could see the piano, there was another combo playing at the moment, but it was getting close to eight. The combo ended and there was a smattering of applause around the room. Soul walked out, shoulders slouched as usual, and sat at the piano bench. She recognizes the song from the jazz CD he'd given her, but she can't quite remember the name. She relaxes, listening to one song run into the next. With his too cool for life attitude, she sometimes forgets how passionate and talented he is at piano.

"You should go introduce yourself afterwards," she hears one girl whisper to another; she turns around briefly to see two girls sitting in a booth watching him. "I know I've seen him around campus." She feels a little stab as she remembers that Soul must have other friends besides her. He sees him come out from backstage and glance around, tie loose, face a little sweaty. "Now's your chance." The two girls trot over and she follows behind to say hi. He catches her gaze and waves but the two girls demand his attention.

"W-we really liked your set," the second, shyer girl said.

"Uh, thanks," he fumbles for words.

"My friend thinks you're really cute, do you think she could have your phone number?" the bolder girl speaks up.

"Uh, hey Maka," he waves her over.

"Hey, that was really fantastic, I recognized that song from that CD you gave me," she hadn't really taken him seriously she he's said he had issues with girls.

"Autumn Leaves?" the girls look a little aghast at being ignored.

"Yeah, that one," she's gotta help him out a little, "your tie is crooked you know, probably from the ride over," she reaches up to straighten it, ignoring the two girls behind her. She's not sure if he'll react to the invasion of personal space.

"Thanks," he mouths under his breath, "I have to go start the second set, I'll meet you out here afterwards." He returns backstage and the two girls scowl. _Oh well, _Maka thinks, she figures if the girls think they're dating, it's a sacrifice she can make for him.

He hands her the extra helmet, "ready to go?" She can feel the looks of two very disappointed girls burning into the back of her head. She follows him out to the motorcycle and shivers. "Thanks for earlier."

She laughs, "I didn't realize how serious you were about your girl issues."

"It's a problem."


	8. Eat That Up, It's Good For You

**Author Notes: **As a gift to all my followers, reviewers, and lurking readers, here's an early update. Next chapter on Saturday, enjoy!

* * *

**November 22****nd**

Soul shoves his hands in his pockets; it's starting to get a little chillier. Most of the school has cleared out for Thanksgiving Break but he sees one familiar face.

She's leaning against the wind, though at her size he figures it is plausible for her to get knocked over. She's clutching a grocery bag to her chest for dear life.

"Hey, need a hand?" he walks alongside her.

"I've got it," she says, "I didn't know you were staying for Thanksgiving."

"Hell if I'm gonna go see my family; they're hellish with just a few around but when you get them all together… you eating dinner with the good professor?" He teases.

She's about to whack him but she can't hold her groceries with one hand. "No, I'm going to cook dinner for myself and eat it by myself."

"Can I join you if I bring turkey?" he holds up a deli-package of turkey and a loaf of bread.

"Of course, I was going to ask if I could borrow your hot plate anyways."

* * *

**November 26****th**

"I didn't realize you were serious about actual cooking," Soul is surprised, impressed, and a little scared about the amount of food spread out on his counter.

"I love cooking, but groceries are too expensive to cook anything interesting for just myself," Maka fills a saucepan with water and puts it on one of the hot plates. "I'm only making stuff that can be put on stove top though."

"I'll get out of your way then."

It's not long before he returns to the kitchen, drawn by the smell of cranberries and ginger. He drools a little and he reaches for the spoon.

"Hey," she smacks his hand lightly, "you have to wait, besides, that has to go in the fridge." She stops peeling potatoes for a moment to put the pan in the mini fridge. "I'm putting you in charge of turkey sandwiches."

"What's on the menu anyways?"

"Mashed potatoes, mushroom gravy, and the cranberry sauce," _he seriously has to stop drooling._ She turns her attention back to the potatoes, putting them in a pot of water before slicing up mushrooms. _It smells intoxicating. _He sits on the floor, smelling delicious food and listening to Maka clatter around the kitchen. It's been a while since he's had a Thanksgiving that he hasn't dreaded. "It should all be ready in a bit, you should make those sandwiches.

He jumps up to toast bread, feeling a little bad for doing all the easy jobs. He spreads cranberry sauce on the bread and layers on sliced turkey, "all done."

"Let's eat then," Maka piles potatoes and gravy next to a sandwich on his plate before serving her own.

"My mom sent me a bottle of wine, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want some after last time," he laughs.

"I should be fine if it's you keeping track of me instead of Tsubaki; bring it out."

He reaches behind to a cupboard and pours them two mugs of red wine, "cheers." He takes a huge bite of potatoes and has to contain himself to keep from moaning. "Maka, you are truly an angel."

"Not exactly, just a competent cook," she laughs, sipping her wine, "your sandwiches show expert craftsmanship," she smirks and takes a bite.

He eats lazily, listening to the storm outside. It's warm in the room, and the wine is making him warmer. He feels bad for being surprised that she's such a good cook, but it just went to show that she does still have a little mystery around her. He's warm, full, and happy, when the power goes out.

"What the fuck?" he yells, thumping his mug down on the floor.

"It must be the storm," Maka says calmly, "do you have a flashlight?"

"No."

"I'll be back," she stood up and made her way to the door.

"Wait, Maka," he reaches to stop her, but she's already out the door. He considers going after her, but he figures she's going to get soaked anyway. She returns after a little while, soaked as he expected. He tosses a bath towel over her head. She's grinning though water drips down her shoulders.

"I didn't find a flash light, but I found some tea lights in the backroom of the bookstore," she holds up a box of candles.

"Good enough," he takes the box, "I'm sure there's a lighter around here somewhere."

Predictably, he finds a lighter with Black Star's pipe, and weed stash. He returns victorious, spreading the candles around the floor and lighting them.

"It looks like we're about to do some voodoo ceremony," Maka giggles, the wine obviously going to her head.

"Ready the turkey for sacrifice," he jokes, taking a bite out of his second turkey sandwich. Cranberry sauce spills out the sides. Maka leans against the wall and he takes her cup, setting it on the counter, "I'm cutting you off." She nods compliantly, the towel slips off her shoulders to the floor. "Here, I'll get you some dry clothes."

He pulls a sweatshirt and pajama pants out of his closet and tosses them to her.

She looks at them for a second before standing up to change in the bathroom. She reappears, drowned in heavy fabric, "this is the second time I've ended up in your clothes."

"Just don't fall asleep again," he warns, though she appears to be well on her way.

"It might happen, these are really comfy," she slurs. She starts drooping and he catches her as she slides to the floor.

"You don't have work tomorrow do you?"

"Nope, school break, book store's closed," she mumbles. He carries her to his bed and lays her down, "I'll leave later, promise."

"It doesn't matter," Soul says, playing music on his laptop.

"What is this? I like it."

"Fiona Apple, Sullen Girl," he replies, but she's already asleep.

* * *

**November 27****th**

"I don't think I've ever slept so well in my life," Maka stretches and creaks.

"'Morning," he calls over from his computer.

"Sorry for crashing here again."

"It's really no big deal, there are two beds when Black Star isn't here; you want some leftovers?" He holds out a plate of mashed potatoes.

"Yeah, I'm starving," she grabs a fork from the kitchen and digs into his plate. "What are you up to today?"

"Watching Breaking Bad on Netflix," he answers, "you down?"

"For sure," she answers through a mouthful of potatoes, "god I love free days." She settles in next to him in front of the lap top. He feels her warm arm pressed against his, he notices that she's kind of like a space heater, but with the power just turned back on, the room is still freezing, so he doesn't really mind. He yanks a blanket off the couch and wraps it around the two of them. _Nice and toasty. _


	9. It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

**December 2nd **

She strides across the quad, shopping bags in one hand and job applications in the other. There are few things she likes more than Christmas, but she's going to need a more full-time job over winter break to pay for presents for her friends. She balances everything on her knee to unlock her building door.

"Tsubaki?" There's no answer, _safe._ She enters her room and spreads out the stuff on her bed. Of course, Tsubaki had left that morning for winter break. Maka is still confused about the break schedule concerning Thanksgiving, but she doesn't have the brain power to think too much on it.

She sighs and flops on the bed; she hears a knock at the door. She hastily throws her blanket over the pile of bags, "come in!"

"I thought you were going home for break," Soul comes in and turns down the volume on his music.

"I was, but my mom went to go visit my great-grandma in Japan, so I'm staying here," she replies, stretching out in front of the conspicuous pile of stuff.

"I didn't even know you were part Japanese," he says, surprised, "anyway, what's all the stuff?"

"Only a quarter, and it's December," she scolds, "you officially can't ask me what I'm shopping for."

"You're seriously Christmas shopping? How are you going to pay for that?"

"I'm getting a full-time job in town since there's no class during break," she answers simply.

"You're crazy," he yawns, "so are you cooking for Christmas too then?"

"If you pay for groceries," she laughs, "with my budget, I'll be eating noodles for a month."

"I still think you're crazy."

"I just really like Christmas, now get out, I have stuff to do."

"Fine, fine."

**December 7****th**

* * *

"Nice uniform," she whips around to see Soul standing at the counter.

"Fuck off," she grumbles.

"Nice way to treat a customer."

"You're not a customer, you're not buying anything," she takes off her stupid elf hat and sighs. It's getting late and the steady flow of customers had died off anyway. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I came to pick you up, it's not like I have anything better to do," he yawns, showing animalistic canines.

"Well I have to change first," she glances at the clock, "I guess I can close a little early."

"I can't believe you're working in retail," he says scornfully, "do you have some uniform for your secret job too?"

"Nope, just wait here okay?" she disappears into the back to change out of her work outfit and into some normal clothes. "Okay, let's go," she throws her hood up over her head and slams the metal grate down over the storefront. It's clear but cold out, a welcome break from the near constant December rain.

"Aren't you cold?" he gestures at her skirt and tights combination.

"I refuse to wear pants," she shivers and steps quickly, "anyway, your ears are red, aren't you cold?"

"I'm always cold, feel my hand," he holds out a frigid hand to her and she rubs it, "you're pretty warm actually."

"I have a really fast metabolism; I guess it keeps me warm too."

"Except your skinny chicken legs."

She whacks him and climbs on the motorcycle.

* * *

**December 10****th**

"I thought I'd find you here," she opens the door to the practice room she had first met Soul in.

"Oh, hey, did you get my text?" he turns away from the piano.

"Yeah, I thought I'd just come find you, I can't believe this building is still open," a lot of the staff has abandoned the campus as well, and only one of the dining halls is open.

"Well, Prof Sid is still around somewhere," he cracks his knuckles, "anyway, are you working Saturday?"

"Not after five, I'm not," she replies, "why?"

"There's a concert down in Portland, I thought you might want to go."

"Can you get tickets this late?" she's gone to about three concerts before and always got the tickets long in advance.

"I have my ways," he smirks, "actually I already got them; I was just assuming you'd be free."

"Wow, what if I am busy?"

"I'll take my chances, so are you free?"

"Yeah, sounds fun, I'm definitely not going in my work uniform though."

**December 12****th**

"Just a second," she pulls a sweater over her head and opens her dorm door, "we taking the motorcycle?"

"Yeah, it's sort of a long ride but not long enough to convince me to take a bus, do you not own any pants?"

"The only pants that are made for me usually have butterflies embroidered on them," she deadpans.

"You are going to freeze to death; did you not know that winter in the Pacific Northwest is like hell with rain?"

"I grew up in San Francisco; I thought I was ready for rain."

"Here, I'll lend you some sweats," he says, beckoning to his building.

"That's funny."

* * *

She looks down at her legs; Soul's sweats are enormous on her. The drawstring is pulled out and is hanging loosely; the legs are rolled up into thick cuffs. "These are ridiculous."

"But you'll be warm; let's go."

They start on the highway and she's instantly glad to have the pants. She's getting wet anyways but it's not nearly as bad as it could be.

"I don't think you were really preparing for wet weather with this motorcycle," she yells. He doesn't reply but she can feel his back shaking with laughter.

"We're here," the bike slows to a halt and she strips off the sweats and stuffs them in her bag. She pulls out an umbrella; he takes it from her and holds it over the two of them. "If you hold it, it'll hit me in the face." He hunches down as it is. There's a few people huddled under the overhang for the building but the door isn't open yet.

"How long do we have to wait out here?"

"A while, there's general admission and we want a good spot."

She wants to be mad but he's standing inches in front of her, blocking the rain.

"What show are we seeing anyway?" she asks.

"Two Door Cinema Club," he answers as if it's the most normal thing.

"All the bands you listen to have weird names," she grumbles.

The doors open and he grabs her arm, pulling her towards the door. A bored looking teen scans their tickets and he pulls her to the front of the room by the stage. "Come on," he says excitedly, his enthusiasm is contagious. "This band is hardly ever in the U.S, and when they are, it's almost always over twenty-one places." He explains as he pushes her up in front of him. She realizes there's a crowd of people filling in behind them and she can see why they got there so early.

A pair of guys comes out with a blare of twin guitars. "Is this them?" she yells.

"No, just some opening band," he replies, "I don't know them." The music starts and she can feel him shifting behind her, his feet tapping to the synthetic beat. He has his arms pushing against the fence in front of them, holding himself from being crushed against her too much, _a_ _gentleman as usual._ The band finishes their set and the crowd claps unenthusiastically. A trio comes out on stage and the crowd tones it up a notch. "I hope they play some stuff from the album they're releasing in April," he says in her ear. It's kind of fun to see him this excited.

She gets swept up in the music and the heat of the room full of people, especially Soul pressed against her back. It feels somehow, incredibly safe.

The concert finishes and the crowd somehow pushes them back outside. It's stopped raining, for once, but she still yanks on Soul's sweats under her skirt. She knows she's taking him for granted.

They ride home and he parks outside her dorm.

"That was a lot of fun, thanks for taking me," she says, standing at her door, feeling a just a little like she's going home after a date.

"So you're cooking on Christmas right?" _Date. Ha. Funny._

"That's funny, you know I'm broke."

"I'll buy groceries," he counters.

"You're desperate," she laughs.

"The only thing worse than cafeteria food is my own cooking, also I got a toaster oven."

"Ooh, fancy. Fine, I'll cook."

"Yes," he hisses in apparent triumph. _Boys are so weird about food._ "Anyway, see you around, Maka."

He walks over, slouching all the way. She unlocks the building, lumbers up the stairs and collapses into her bed.

She's always been good at talking to people, but she doesn't really know what to do with this wolfish boy who, while constantly infuriating, can somehow do not wrong.

* * *

**Author Notes: **What's this? Note at the end? Just thought I should let you know, I'm fudging facts, full disclosure, this band was probably not in Portland in 2009, but every time they've come to my city it's always been in 21+ locations so that much is based on experience... sue me. Hope you enjoyed the update!


	10. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

**December 15****th**

"I can't believe you've even got some miniature Christmas tree in here," he pushes the door open. She's on the phone.

"Hush, my mom's on the phone," she puts her hands over the receiver and waves at him irritatingly. He's almost a little surprised that she has another parent besides that weirdo professor.

"Yeah, of course, put grandma on," she says sweetly. Her voice gets a little higher and she starts speaking in what he guesses to be Japanese. "Hey, Soul, my mom wants to talk to you." She shoves the phone at him and he takes it hesitantly.

"Hello?" he prays that the voice on the other side is speaking English.

"Oh, is this Soul? It's so nice to meet you," a woman laughs, "well sort of."

"Uh yeah," he mumbles.

"It's so nice of you to take care of Maka over these holidays, I can't thank you enough."

"It's more like her that takes care of me."

"What is she saying to you?" Maka mouths at him, he just shakes his head at her.

"I hope you guys have a good Christmas. Don't tell Maka, but I'm sending her a check to help with the tuition, don't let her send it back," Maka's mom says.

"Of course," he replies.

"Give me the phone back," Maka snatches the phone back, "stop saying weird things about me, mom." She says. Soul slumps on the bed. "Okay, love you too, Merry Christmas."

"So where did this tree come from?" Soul says as she slips her phone back in her pocket.

"My mom sent it to me," she replies and start tacking up a string of lights around the edge of the ceiling.

"She seems nice."

"Oh, she is, she's great." She smiles, "too bad she has such awful taste in men."

"Anyway, I didn't know you spoke Japanese," he's still waiting for her to stop surprising him.

"Well, if I wanted to talk with that half of my family, I sort of had to learn it. Now I have to go to work."

"You need a ride? I need to do some Christmas shopping." He still has to get her present, and he hasn't even thought about whether to get anything for the guys. He's never really had that many guy friends so he hasn't decided whether it's cool or not to get presents for them. Probably if it's beer or something.

* * *

**December 21****st**

He's bored. He wishes Maka didn't work so often because he doesn't really have anyone else to talk to. _A little pathetic,_ he thinks to himself, but he's never been that social anyways. He's about to pull out his phone and call her when it rings.

"What's up?"

"Hey, I just got home from work," Maka says, "you down for Christmas movies and pasta?"

"Totally, come on over." _Yeah, a little pathetic. _He hears a knock on the door and swings it open to see her with a giant fuzzy blanket. "Where are the movies?"

"You underestimate my love of Christmas," she brandishes a flash drive at him and he snatches it out of her hand. "You can pick the first one."

He plugs in the flash drive and pulls up a pretty extensive folder of movies. "This seems really illegal."

"Like all of your hundred gigs of music isn't," she scoffs and flops in front of the laptop. "What are we watching?"

"What a Wonderful Life, obviously." He shoves her lightly and claims a spot in front of the tiny screen. "We need a T.V."

The screen fades to black and his stomach grumbles.

"I can't believe you haven't put on pasta yet," she mutters.

"Needy," he gets up to put on water and she wraps the blanket tightly around her. "What are we watching next?"

"Meet Me in St. Louis."

"That's not really a Christmas movie," he yells from the kitchen.

"Hey, it's my favorite; I'm starting it without you."

He returns with two bowls of pasta, doused heavily with pesto, and a tall glass of vodka and a dose of orange juice. She reaches for the glass and takes a sip, making a face.

"There's vodka in that," he points out as she makes a disgusted face.

"That's disgusting," she sneers involuntarily, "but I'm getting used to it."

"Don't, drinking doesn't suit you," he takes the glass back and takes a swig.

"You're not my father."

"Thank god. Geez this movie is awful, the only thing it has going for it is-"

"Judy Garland," Maka fills in, stuffing her face with pasta.

"I guess she makes up for everything in her own way."

The movie is nearing its end and Soul is comfortably buzzed and full of pasta. The movie isn't actually as bad as he had remembers it being, but that could be the alcohol talking. He decides it's more charmingly old-fashioned. Maka is sprawled on the floor, lazily nibbling pasta and humming to the signature song. She top off the remains of his screwdriver with more orange juice, _smart choice, _and tastes it gingerly.

"Aren't you supposed to drink eggnog on Christmas or something?" she grimaces.

"I guess, I've never been a Christmas person." He replies, yawning.

"Oh come on, it's the one time you actually enjoy your family."

"My family Christmases were always more like formal events, kids upstairs to not cause an embarrassment," He mutters bitterly. She leans her forehead against his hand, somehow conveying something between sympathy and affection.

"Are you an only child?" she asks.

"No, I have an older brother, Wes; he's the favored child," he replies and takes a drink from the watered down screwdriver. He's really too sober to be having this conversation.

"I always wanted a sibling, but Christmas was always nice with just me and my mom."

He clams up a little; he's never been a sentimental person. The only thing less cool than feeling sorry for yourself is talking about it. He rubs the back of her neck and double clicks Miracle on 34th Street.

* * *

**December 25****th**

"I thought I'd find you in here."

He looks up from the piano.

"I haven't seen you in a couple of days."

Truthfully, he feels awkward about talking about his family, though it isn't really a good excuse for avoiding one of his only friends.

"I've just been practicing a lot," he returns his gaze to the piano.

"I have your present back in my room, you should come get it," she starts to move for the door.

"Will you sing something for me?"

He can tell she's taken aback; it is pretty odd for him to request something like that. Mostly he feels vulnerable and it feels safer to be the one making an appeal.

"You know better than anyone that I can't sing," she flushes a little pink.

"That's not _entirely_ true," he grins, "come on, I'll play something you know." He plays out the changes to a very familiar song. She just glares at him and rocks back on the heels of her boots. He returns the look with a smirk and runs the progression again.

_"Have yourself a merry little christmas," _her voice is quiet, and nervous, and the pitch wavers a little, but it's not bad to listen to. She doesn't fall flat, and hearing her sing is reassuring. He's knows that he's selfish for wanting to keep her to himself, but he's always been too good at ruining good things in the past.

"So you said you have a present for me?"

"You suck," she punches his shoulder and everything is normal again.

"Calm down," he hands her a gift bag, "Merry Christmas and all that."

"Wait, I really do have to get your present from my room," she pushes it back at him and hurries for the door. He leans against the piano for a few minutes, waiting for her to return. She comes back in a huff, a neatly wrapped box in one hand. "Merry Christmas, Soul."

He unwraps the box nimbly and pulls out a cream head band with a couple of patches sewn on the front, a blue one with his name and another with a fanged mouth. "This is cool, did you make this?" he slips it over his head, impressed.

"I'm a girl of many skills," she smirks. _She's kind of amazing._

"I can't say the same," he hands her the gift bag for the second time and she takes it. She digs impatiently through the tissue paper and pulls out his gift to her.

"So cute!" she exclaims, holding up the mismatched, stars and stripes socks.

"For your skinny chicken legs," he says nonchalantly as she kicks off her shoes and pulls the socks dangerously high. "I figure there are certain circumstances when it's acceptable to give people socks."

"Thanks."

"Merry Christmas."

"So what am I making for dinner?" she asks.

"Fuck." He hadn't gone to the grocery store. "Is the grocery store still open?"

"I don't think it opened at all today," she replies, "wait, you forgot about the groceries didn't you?" her voice gets more shrill by the second and Soul prepares himself to get whacked. Fortunately all she has to throw at him is a gift bag so he gets off easy.

"How do you feel about ramen?"

"You're the worst."


	11. Tonight's Gonna Be A Good Night

**Author Notes: **Sorry for the late update, I haven't been at home the past few days. First time I'm using a song title that I don't actually recommend people listen to, not that everyone hasn't heard it already anyways. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, next update on Saturday.

* * *

**December 28****th**

"Tsubaki! I missed you!" She rushes into her friend's arms and hugs her tightly.

"Missed you too, have a good break?" Tsubaki replies, dragging her bags to the van that Maka had borrowed from Harvar. _Well, she borrowed the keys, _Maka thinks, _Harvar hadn't come back yet._

"Yeah, it was fun."

"Fun?" Tsubaki questions slyly, "that's all? No romantic dinner like you had last holiday?"

"Shut up, there was nothing romantic there," Maka glares at her roommate and climbs in the front seat.

"You try telling me that you don't like him," Tsubaki teases, "with a straight face."

Maka pauses for a second, "it's not that I don't like him…"

"I knew it!"

"You're the worst."

"You know, the boys are all having a New Year's thing in their suite."

"First I've heard of it," Maka doesn't want to admit that she's surprised Soul hadn't already mentioned it.

"Black Star just told me this morning on skype."

"It's hard for me to be happy for you two when you continue to be so disgusting."

"Anyway, you need someone to kiss at this New Year's thing right?"

"No."

"It won't be my fault if you die single."

* * *

**December 29****th**

"Hey, you coming for New Year's?" Soul leans against the book-shop desk where Maka has resumed her regular job, though classes won't start for another week.

"What's happening New Year's?" she replies with believable innocence.

"Oh didn't I tell you? We're having a thing at our place." He says, seemingly oblivious.

"And you need me and Tsubaki so it won't be a total sausage-fest?"

"Hey, Ox is bringing his new girlfriend, Kim, and her roommate."

"Yeah sure, we'll be there."

"Hey, you could even bring OCD, if you're talking to him again," he prods.

"We've been talking, about his new girlfriend Liz," she spits.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I know you liked him."

"It doesn't matter. Whatever, I'll invite both of them."

He just shrugs, "whatever you want."

_Nothing going on here._

* * *

**December 31****st**

"Are you ready?"

"Almost!" Maka yells from her closet where she's dabbing on mascara in a _very _poorly lit mirror. She catches a glimpse of Tsubaki smirking at her in her mirror and throws the tube half-heartedly at her face.

"Aren't you all cute, dolled up, show Kid what he's missing."

"Hey, I'm the one who rejected him remember?" Maka scowls.

"I know, I know," Tsubaki strokes her head soothingly. It makes her feel sick. She's mad that everyone is making a big deal out this whole thing when it had been a really passing crush on both of their parts.

"Okay, let's go."

They walk the short distance to the boys' dorm, the next building over.

"Hey girls," Black Star slurs as he opens the door, "come on in! Your god is blessing the world with his singing." Maka winces as she observes that they've set up a karaoke machine.

"Hey Maka, Tsubaki," Soul leans against the wall, as drunk as Maka's ever seen him.

"You've met Ox, Harvar and Kirikou," Black Star gestures around the room with a beer can, "this is Ox's girlfriend Kim."

"Nice to meet you," a cute girl with pink hair waves from the couch.

"And her roommate Jacquie," Black Star continues his round of introductions.

"I'd really prefer you call me Jacqueline," a brooding girl says from the corner before returning her obviously judgmental gaze to Ox and Kim on the couch.

"Ugh, Black Star, what is this music?" Soul grumbles, still leaning heavily on the wall.

"C'mon, it's New Year's Eve, we have to say good-bye to the 2009 top forty," Black Star yells.

"Whatever, I need another drink," Soul returns to the kitchen and Maka follows him; she knows he isn't a people person."

"Kim seems nice," she mentions.

"Yeah, sure," he replies grumpily, "you invite OCD?"

"Yeah, I told him to come at eight, so he should be here in about 30 seconds," she glances at her cellphone, "he's painfully prompt."

Sure enough, there's a knock at the door and she goes to answer it before Black Star can get to it.

"Hi Maka," Kid says a little stiffly.

"Hi, you must be Maka," a tall, blonde girl says, "I'm Liz."

_Of course she's beautiful and nice. _

"Nice to meet you, come in."

"Yahoo, Kid brought a sexy lady," Black Star cheers and spills beer on himself.

"I need a drink," Maka mutters and returns to the kitchen where Soul is still nursing something that is definitely not water. He pours her a heavy dose of vodka with a splash of orange juice.

"You're gonna need it," Soul swirls his own drink before downing the rest.

"I don't think I've seen you this drunk," Maka giggles, the liquor going straight to her head.

"I avoid it cuz I'm an angry drunk," he yawns.

She shrugs and returns to the group, because despite the fact that Kid's way-hotter-than-her girlfriend is here, she's going to have fun.

She sings a little karaoke, dances with Tsubaki, and eventually ends up on the floor next to one of the beds.

"You okay down there?" Tsubaki asks.

She nods drunkenly, "I'm great; the floor is super comfy."

"Hey, can I sit with you?" Liz slides down the wall to sit in the cramped gap with her.

"Uh, sure," Maka smiles politely.

"I just want you to know, that there's no hard feelings between us," Liz starts crying a little and Maka tenses up, "I just want us to be friends, okay?"

"Okay," Maka pats the other girl's head awkwardly as she stands up. _No way is she getting down. _

"Hey, come dance with me," Kirikou pulls her towards him and she back up. He smells like alcohol and sweat, and she definitely doesn't want to dance with him.

"Uh, I'm gonna get a little fresh air," she heads for the kitchen where she figures Soul will still be sulking.

He blows a puff of smoke out the window.

"I didn't know you smoked," she says, sliding to the floor again.

"I don't," he looks at the cigarette in his hand, confused, and laughs. "Guess I had a little too much to drink." He puts out the cigarette in the sink; she gets on her knees to glance in and see it join five more butts. "How're things with OCD?"

_Ever considerate. _"He's too busy being awkward to talk to me." Maka laughs, "Whatever, I'm drunk, I don't want to talk to him anyways."

"I'll drink to that," Soul hands her another glass and raises his own. She knows that she is already piss drunk but she drinks anyways because she can't think of a good reason not to.

"It really does seem like a good idea to smoke one of these right now," Maka pulls herself up to the counter and eyes the pack, all sense of judgment gone. "Whose are these anyway?"

Soul lights one, takes a drag and passes it to her. "Hell if I know, they're in my dorm so who cares." Maka sucks in tentatively and it makes her mouth taste awful and her chest burn. She coughs and takes another sip of her drink. "Hey now, let's get you some water," Soul sloppily fills a cup from the sink and she takes it gratefully. _He's back in concerned mom mode._

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" she can hear everyone counting down from the other room but she doesn't really feel like moving. Soul seems to be ignoring them too. "Three, Two, One, Happy New Year!"

She leans into the doorway to see an odd scene of barely adults either making out with their significant other or awkwardly staring at the wall. She notes in her muddled brain that no one is kissing her, the moment passes and she takes another sip from one of the glasses on the counter, she can't even tell what's in it at this point.

"I just want everyone to leave," Soul grumbles and pushes his hair back, irritated.

It's 2010 and she couldn't care less. She still feels wasted and her lungs hurt. The floor seems like a good place to be so she slides back down and leans against the wall.

Eventually most everyone leaves or falls asleep and it quiets down. It's hard for her to keep track of exactly who's there, but it looks like Black Star and Tsubaki have left, so she'll be spending the night here. She stumbles towards her usual sleeping spot but it appears that someone else, she guesses Kirikou, has passed out there. Given the choice between passing out in a bed with Soul in it, and one with Kirikou in it, she chooses the one with Soul and congratulates herself for her good drunk judgment.

He smells like vodka and cigarettes, but she probably does too so she isn't really bothered. She puts her back up against his and pulls on the pillow. He grunts with annoyance but looks over to see that it's her and that she's only claiming half of it so he relents. She drags some of the covers out from under him and pulls them clumsily over her shoulders. He rolls over and drapes them a little more skillfully before resting his hands on her shoulders. Very warm, and very intoxicated, she falls asleep.

* * *

She wakes up some time in the middle of the night, she guesses around three, with her mouth dry and her head woozy. She untangles herself from the blankets and crawls to the bathroom. The light is too bright and makes her head hurt so she washes her face in the dark and shoves her face under the faucet to drink out of it. She can sort of make out her face in the mirror and it doesn't look good. She looks at her phone and sees that it's actually half past five. She haphazardly dries her face and stumbles back to the bedroom.

She's a little too sober to crawl back in a tiny bed with Soul, but also too sober to sleep on the floor. She sits for a little while before giving up. It's cold, and she's still boozy, so she crawls back under the warm covers with the boy she doesn't not like.

"Hey, your face is wet," he grumbles when he leans her forehead against the back of his neck, but he doesn't move away or make further complaint.

* * *

**January 1****st**** 2010**

She certainly doesn't feel new when she wakes up, her head spinning and her mouth dry. But it's a new year, and she spends the first morning of it chugging water and trying to make sense of her hair. Kirikou has disappeared at some point in the early morning and Soul is still asleep. She hears a groan from the bed and brings out a full glass of water. He reaches for it gratefully but spills a large portion of it on himself anyway.

"Fuck it all."

"Happy New Year to you too," she takes the glass back. Soul stands up and yanks all of the damp bedding off his bed before falling back into it, face first. "You want some toast?"

"Yes, please, thank you."

He's asleep again when she comes back, so she leaves the plate by his bed and starts cleaning the kitchen because she doesn't have anything better to do. _Happy New Year. _


	12. Pretty Good Year

**Author Notes: **Sorry for the short chapter, scholarship applications are the death of me. Big reveal this chapter though, also baking in a toaster oven is awful, don't try it.

* * *

**January 5****th**

"So, shacking up with Maka yet?"

Soul spits out his coffee back into the cup. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, I'm just wondering," Black Star cackles and chugs his energy drink. "She's pretty hot if you picture her with boobs."

"Don't you already have a girlfriend?"

"Oh so you don't want me going for Maka?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm just here to keep you from being a dick to Tsubaki."

"So you're telling me you've never thought about getting together with Maka," Black Star looks absolutely unconvinced.

"It's not that I haven't thought about it," he has, in fact, a lot.

"So what's stopping you?"

"I don't really get why you care so much," he shrugs, "I'm going to class."

Truthfully, he doesn't really want to discuss his unresolved issues with Black Star.

"I'm just trying to get you laid man," Black Star yells after him.

"I don't need your help!"

* * *

"Hey Soul."

He's still avoiding Black Star and his prodding questions so he goes to the book store where he knows he'll find her.

"Hey Maka, what're you working on?" He hops over the counter and perches next to her on the chair.

"Reading Jane Eyre," she dog ears her page and shuts the book, "what do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm just bored," he scratches his head and nudges her over on the chair so he can sit more securely.

"Black Star told me your birthday is coming soon."

"I guess if you consider the 13th to be soon," _Of course Black Star is still trying to clumsily meddle with his love life. _

"So what do you want for your birthday?"

"I want to know what your secret job is," he pinches her cheek and she whacks him. _Old games. _

"I'll tell you, on your birthday, if you leave me alone while I'm reading."

"Fine," he concedes and puts his headphones on. He can't believe how pissy she is when reading a book, which probably isn't even for class, but he has nothing better to do.

* * *

**January 9****th**

"Surprise!" _Shit. _

"Guys, it isn't my birthday yet," he glowers.

"That's the point, so you'd actually be surprised," Maka grins and hands him an envelope, "happy birthday!"

"Guster tickets? I love them," he beams.

"I know you do," she scoffs, "the show isn't until March though."

"And I suppose you think I'm taking you?"

"Like you have anyone else to take." _Touche._

"Maybe I'll just take Black Star," he shakes his friend's shoulder and smirks.

"I'll only go if I can start a mosh pit," Black Star starts throwing himself around the room, his fits up in the air.

Ox yanks Kim out of Black Star's path and he crashes into the wall.

Soul can't help laugh at the lot of them, "How can this be a party without any cake?"

"Well, I had to improvise, because there's no way I could fit a cake pan in that little toaster oven," Maka disappears into the kitchen and returns with a plate of cupcakes, each one with a candle in it. "Happy Birthday, Soul."

He blows out the candles and everyone cheers for absolutely no reason. _It's not really cool, but he can cope. _He grabs a couple of cupcakes and heads for the door.

"I need some fresh air," he announces and stuffs one of the cupcakes in his mouth so he can open the door.

He leans against the building and sighs out a cloud of breath into the cool night air. He remembers a time when he used to pretend to be a dragon, breathing smoke. It was the thing to do at age nine, though not nineteen. He eats the second cupcake.

"Too cool for birthday parties?"

His mouth is still fully of cupcake so his only reply is a grunt. He swallows, clears his throat, "so you never told me what your mystery job is."

"Well it's not your birthday yet," she teases.

"True enough."

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I work in a photography studio."

"Doing what? Taking people's pictures?" he's intrigued.

"Well, mostly measuring and diluting chemicals for film at the moment; we have the only black and white dark room set up in town."

"I didn't know there still was black and white film."

"Yeah, mostly a lot of art students come to get their film developed or get prints made, but Doctor Stein won't let me do that until I practice on my own shots."

"I didn't know you were a photographer."

"Oh, I'm really no good at it," she shuffles her feet. "It's just not practical anyway, just a hobby."

"You're pretty much good at everything, so I sort of doubt it."

"Anyway, it's cold; let's go back in," she beckons him to the door.

"Hey Maka."

"Yeah?"

"Will you show me where you work sometime?"

"Yeah, I guess I can."


	13. Don't Take My Picture

**Author Notes: **Wow I am the worst person ever. I'm sorry this update has taken forever, no thanks to scholarship applications, auditions, and competitions. Anyway, sorry the development is slow; I'm a big fan of sexual tensionn... Anyway, enjoy the chapter, I'll try to be more regular about it.

* * *

**January 15****th**

*Click*

"Oh you didn't." Soul grumbles. Maka lowers the camera from her face and grins.

"If I'm going to show you where I work, I'm going to need film to develop." She snaps another picture while he's off guard.

"I'm not the best subject, something about the red eyes," he grimaces and points to his face.

"It's black and white."

"Got me there," he replies and hands her a cup of coffee. "Where'd you get that camera anyways?"

"I borrowed it from Dr. Stein," she gently lifts the camera strap from her neck and sets it on the table.

"When are you taking me there anyways?"

"Tomorrow."

"What if I have plans?"

"You don't," she smirks, "I already asked Black Star and I know you don't have many other friends."

"Got me again."

"I have to go in early and set up the lab but you can come by around ten," she scribbles the address down and hands it over.

"See you tomorrow then."

* * *

**January 16****th**

She's washing her hands when she hears the rumble of Soul's motorcycle outside. She's nervous, _definitely not because of him, _mostly because she's scared of sharing herself with others.

She had told him to come to the alley door, and there he was, waving sheepishly through the dusty window. She shakes the water off her hands and opens the door.

"I was expecting more laboratory and less…"

"Office building." She fills in. It's true, the fluorescent lights give it a pretty industrial-cubicle-hell sort of look, but the sink and rows of canisters on the counter tell a different story.

"Do I get a tour?" He wraps his headphones up and tucks them in his pocket.

"While I develop this film," she waves the cartridge in front of him.

"Does that have my pictures on it?"

"Yeah, but if you intentionally sabotage it, I will smack you."

"I'm so scared," he dead pans and she whacks him for good measure.

She leaps around the room, scooping up a canister, bottle opener, and scissors. She smirks at the confused look on his face as she dumps her loot in a black bag along with her film.

"Don't you need a darkroom?"

"That's what this is," she holds up the sack and zips it shut. "There's elastic arm holes so no light gets in." She sits on a stool, positions the bag of her lap and wiggles her arms in.

"Scoot over," Soul nudges her over on the stool, wraps him arms on either side of her and wiggles his own hands in the bag.

"Hey!"

"I want to know what's going on!" he grumbles.

"Just don't get any finger prints on my film," she replies, trying to focus on opening the cartridge with his arms around her and his neck on her face. She can practically feel his pulse on her cheek and he smells like old spice and boy. Her heart flips like a fish on land, courtesy of her best friend being too close for comfort and yet too comfortable. She rolls her shoulders back and pops the cartridge open with the bottle opener. She's impressed that he's not just grabbing around the bag though, he keeps his hands delicately on her wrists as she fumbles with the lid of the canister.

"What are you doing now?"

"Feeding the film on this reel to put in the canister, it can't overlap itself or else there will be big patches from the chemicals." She snips off the post and leads his hands to the flat sides of the reel. "It's a spiral see?" His hand still resting lightly on top her hers, she pushes the reel in the canister and screws on the lid. "Now comes the boring part."

She pulls her hands out of the bag and unzips it.

"So all your film is in that little thing, no dark room?"

"There's a darkroom but it isn't pitch black like you need for film, you'll see later."

She slides off the stool and heads for the jugs of chemicals on the counter. She pours in the developer, caps it, and sets the timer.

"Here, just shake this every once in a while," she hands the canister to Soul. He just glares. "Hey, you're the one who wants to participate."

"Whatever," he flips it leisurely.

After the timer buzzes, and pours the developer down the sink and refills the canister from another jug before hastily handing it back to Soul.

"Oh geez, this is the one that smells weird," he wrinkles his nose.

"Yeah that's why you're doing it," she laughs and rinses her hands off. He's about to pour it down the sink when she grabs it back from him. "You can reuse this one," she funnels it back into the jug.

"You really like having me do menial tasks, don't you?" Soul complains as she hands him the canister for the third time.

"Oh shut up, this is the last one."

"Okay then, now what."

"Now we put in the washer, hang it up and go get some lunch." She unscrews the canister and pulls out the reel.

She pulls the reel out of the water and pops it apart so the film comes off.

"Can I see?" Soul reaches for it.

"Wait for it to dry; it can still get finger prints on it." She hangs it up in the dryer and washes her hands again.

"I thought that was fridge," Soul gasps. Maka cackles, incredulous.

"I have no idea if you're serious."

"I really am; it looks exactly like a fridge."

"Let's go get some food," she turns a dial on the side and heads for the door.

"How did you get into photography anyways?"

She holds up a hand while slurping down noodles. "My mom always took a lot of pictures; she always wanted to document anything. Always film, of course; she liked things to be permanent and on paper."

Soul nods and shovels noodles into his mouth. "I guess music was always in my family."

"I can't pretend to be the kind of artist you are Soul," she grimaces. She's realistic about her own skills; she's always had a strong work ethic and a knack for learning but little resembling creativity.

"Good thing you have skills that'll actually get you somewhere in life, he scoffs.

"You mean like cooking?"

"Oh definitely!" he exclaims, his hand slapping the table and spilling a little broth.

"Too bad I don't want to be a housewife," she jokes and slides her chair back, "now let's go check on that film."


	14. Look At All The Lonely People

**Author Notes: **I'm beyond sorry guys, I've been beyond busy and also beyond ashamed at getting so behind on this. I had planned on writing again as soon as I was done with graduation but then I was on tour in Europe for a few weeks. Anyway, I don't have much else to do for the next couple months so hopefully I can get some writing in. Sorry for the delay, and please enjoy the chapter.

* * *

"Come on, we can check on the film and make some prints."

Soul hops up and follows her to the drying closet where she is taking down the film strip.

"Hold it by the edges," Maka hands him the strip and he holds it up to the light.

"I think I can see my hair, totally black," he squints at them suspiciously.

"Let's go to the dark room."

The dark room is not as dark as he had imagined, but everything is a greyish shade of yellow. He watches as she cuts off a piece of the negative and slips it into a flat slide in an odd machine. She flips a switch and light is shone through the negatives, revealing a larger version of the image.

"It's still in negative," he points out. His hair and skin appear quite black, his eyes just a little brighter. _Absolutely demonic looking._

"Don't worry about it." She twists a few controls, changing the focus and the brightness. Maka flips the switch back off and pulls a piece of paper from a drawer, positions it in a framing device and flips the light on for a few seconds. "Okay, let's check it out." She holds his wrist and tugs him lightly to the chemical bathes in the middle of the room. She slides it into the first one with a pair of tongs.

Soul stands right behind her, looking over her shoulder as she gently shakes the pan, stirring the chemical bath and watching the clock. He puts a hand on the table on either side of her, leaning in to be able to see the paper. His face appears slowly, the grays getting darker, the contrast becoming apparent. Some clean citrus smell mixes masks the alkaline scent, maybe her shampoo.

"Okay, next one," she drops it in another bath followed by the a third before she put it in the sink.

"I want to see the other pictures." She deftly grabs his arms moves them back so she can move back to the projector. She slides the negatives over to see some portraits of Tsubaki, as far as he could tell, but they looked more posed than his very candid shot. "You can't really tell which one is the best."

"Yeah, I should make a contact sheet, I just have the one shot of you," she cuts and slides all the negatives into a clear sheet.

After another flash of lights she's sliding another piece of paper in the chemicals and tiny sizes of all the pictures soon appear. Besides the pictures of Tsubaki there are a few pictures of sparrows, and some that appear more abstract.

"How did you do these? I can't tell what it is," he remarks. Meanwhile she fishes the sheet out and dips it into the next bath, watching the clock all the while.

"They're taken through a glass lantern I found, the patterns are from the indentations in the glass," she explains

"It's beautiful."

"I'll have to make larger prints later, but the paper is expensive." She moves the sheet with the miniature pictures into the third bath and then the sink before fishing out the picture of him. "You look good in black and white."

"I guess the eyes aren't so frightening," he comments, glancing over his own image, still slick with water.

"But just as startling." She takes it back from him to squeegee off the extra water. He gets a little twinge in his stomach, not entirely sure how to interpret her words.

They go back out the odd, space-shuttle like revolving door which protects the room from outside light.

"When do you get off? Do you want to head back up to campus?" he asks.

"Not until 5," she grimaces, "I'll stop by with take-out later though. You take this with you though, I don't want to worry about wrinkling it on the bus" she slips the print into a paper sleeve and hands it to him. "And keep in mind that if you rip it up I can just make another one."

He smiles, nods, and heads for the door, still thinking about how she seems so scared of immersing herself in what is obviously a passion. He makes the short drive back to campus, his own likeness gingerly tucked inside his coat.

He unlocks his room, tosses his bag on the bed, turns on the radio and pulls his picture out to examine it. It's not quite like looking in a mirror, though the apathetic expression and drooping eyes are certainly a common expression. It seems somehow to capture more than that which he shows the world on a daily basis though. Slightly disconcerted, he lays it down on his desk and flops down on his bed to nap until Maka shows up. The Beatles are playing on the radio as he drifts off to sleep.

He jolts awake when he hears a knock at the door.

"Open the door Soul," he hears Maka's muffled yell from the other side. He leaps up to open it and smells delicious noodles. "I come with Pad Thai."

He drools a little as they head for the kitchen. Ignoring the plates, they slide to the floor and start at the take out box armed just with disposable chopsticks.

"Maka, I don't get it," he says through a mouthful of noodles.

"God Soul, chew your food before you inhale it."

"I'm serious though, you have some talent, if you love photography that much why don't you pursue it."

"No offense Soul, but your opinion on photography is about as valid as mine is on Jazz Piano," she snaps.

"Ouch."

"I'm sorry Soul, but as much as you may think so, I'm not really any good. It really kills me that I have to have a backup plan and that you can do what you love and get paid for it, you don't need to try to make me feel better about it or something." She stands up and heads for the door.

"Maka, that's not what I'm saying at all, you're being totally irrational about this," he shouts after her but she's already slammed the door behind her. "Maka wait a minute!" he yells down the hallway but she's already gone. _Better to let sleeping dogs lie. _


End file.
